An unused toothbrush beside mine
It’s there for weeks, exactly nine.
They ask why I keep it with me,
Just ‘cause I’m waiting for springtime.
.
When springtime sets I’ll give it back,
To who I inherently lack,
My soul would be a whole once more,
We’ll carve our feet on muddy track.
.
For future lovers who walk by,
Away from world and those who pry,
They’ll set eyes on our Epitaphs,
“Here lies the Sun and his pink Sky”
.
For now the toothbrush stands forlorn,
Biding the seasons not yet born,
This year the cherries might not bloom,
There might not be a dewy morn.
.
Not yet but if you wait a year,
The doves will carry your prayer,
The toothbrush will see spring again,
You won’t know fear, shall shed no tear.